Mimi's Angel
by xkookypandax
Summary: Why is the one thing killing Mimi Marquez the only thing keeping her alive?


**A/N: **Wow. I've never written something...Rent-y before. You'd think I would with all the emotions...anyway, I wanted to write this for a while. Its kinda a mixture of whats happening to Mimi in 'Without you' and 'What You Own', when Roger leaves her for Santa Fe.  
R&R please and thank you! :)

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Why? Why did everyone leave? Why did no one have faith in her? How could everyone run away? Why couldn't she? Why did they leave her with so many questions and so little time?

Mimi felt so alone. More alone than before. Angel was dead, and Collins had gone off, lost without her. Numb. Maureen and Joanne…who knows. They hurt each other, lost without love. Numb. Mark. Poor Mark. He was so confused. He depended so heavily on his friends, but they didn't depend on each other, and they crumbled. All he had was his camera, and nothing to film except lives he now didn't care about. Numb. How could Mark, so set on the philosophy of living out every last moment you have, be numb? Roger was gone. He just ran. Maybe he wasn't numb, but he was running. Running as far as he could, all the way to Santa Fe. He didn't have much longer, but how did it make any sense to spend your last moments on earth as far away from your loved ones as you could? Because his loved ones didn't seem to love each other.

Mimi loved him. Mimi was still trying to live by Angel and Mark's ideals. But who else did now? That, apparently, wasn't good enough for Roger. The junkie wasn't good enough for the junkie. And what kind of sense did _that_ make?

Roger tried. He really did. He took Mimi to life support and together, she found a way to stay away from her addiction. The nausea never left. Severe muscle cramps. Shivering, sweating, weakness so intense, it was hard to move. Impossible. The insomnia…It had to stop. And when Mimi was just considering 'healing' herself, he had enough. And just like that, he bought a car and left. And she may have never had the chance to see him again. And it was all her fault.

But there was someone who never left her. One person who would always be there, because he needed her just as much as she needed him.

Spike.

The drug dealer.

He was her angel, it seemed. He cared for her, at times. He valued her. Maybe not for the ideal reasons, but he did value her. And she needed him, plain and simple.

She was running low on money. She went to work when she wasn't feeling weak from her withdrawals and danced as she never had before. In the past two weeks, she had double the money she had every made in a months time before. The best part was, she didn't regret any of it. It gave her more money and that's all she needed. Soon, she wouldn't need to go back. She would do all she was allowed to do get all the money possible, and then live alone with all she needed. Her money and her savior.

"Spike."

The dealer raised his head at the dancer's weak voice. He was out of place in the middle of central park. A dark man with a dark ponytail and a dark jacket. At least no one was around.

"Mimi, baby, haven't seen you around. What happened?" He gestured for her to sit.

"Got busy. No money. Tried to quit, to be honest, and it almost killed me. I had to get over that."

He was appalled. "Quit the sweet stuff? Baby, it can't be done? Why fight it? It's part of you now, so just let it be."

Mimi smiled at him. Always there for her. Always encouraging her. Whether she was dying or living or loving or hating, he was there, and he was supporting what she thought.

Unless she thought quitting was a good idea. Then he would encourage her to start up again.

"I saw you the other night. Hot stuff, Mimi, hot stuff. That been making you some money?"

Mimi nodding and pulled out a roll of cash from her bra. "Yeah, it has. I had to pull out everything I knew."

"Yeah you did…" He said with a smirk on his face and a gleam in his eye. "You gotta show me again sometime."

Mimi nodded. "Anything, as long as I get what I came for. I want all that this will get me." She put the wad in his hand and in return, he gave her three little bags filled with pure white.

The most pure color. The most pure looking object. It wasn't numb at all.

So why was it _that_ that was killing her?

Why did the numb survive? Because they lived better safe than sorry.

Why did beauty kill? Why did that precious pure white stash threaten her life and why did the feeling of not living keep her alive?

"Thank you, Spike. You're an angel."

"Anytime, babe." He kissed her, and she didn't fight it.

"Come over when you're bored and have more to give me," she said. But there was no emotion. Surviving had sucked it out of her. "You know where I live."

At her apartment, Mimi gave herself her medicine. She shot up her sweet elixir of life she was craving so deeply, and fell back onto her bed to think of him.

Roger. Why was he gone? Why did her addiction chase away her love? Why did love chase away love? And how could her love scorn her angel? It made no sense.

Why was the thing that was killing Mimi Marquez also the only thing that was keeping her alive?


End file.
